


How much can you fit under your skin? (I wish you were dead babe I wish you were dead)

by w6rship



Series: Self-Bound [3]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Cliffhangers, Gore, Graphic Description, Graphic Violence, M/M, Mutilation, Nightmares, Read the notes for more warnings i cant even-, i feel sick - Freeform, im so sorry, like please be careful while reading this, referenced religious themes, this is pretty graphic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28647405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/w6rship/pseuds/w6rship
Summary: This is probably one of the most graphic things ill ever write im so sorry. I felt physically sick while writing this.—-He wondered if this was how his victims felt, as they worthlessly begged for their life and he spared no remorse for them. Was this his karma? Was this even real?...Another choked scream spilt from his lips like sirens, a warning.
Relationships: Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Series: Self-Bound [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2074890
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14





	How much can you fit under your skin? (I wish you were dead babe I wish you were dead)

**Author's Note:**

> TW!!! PLEASE READ!!!
> 
> this contains extreme mentions of body horror and terrible things
> 
> TW: body horror  
> TW: self harm  
> TW: cannibalism  
> CW: emetophobia warning
> 
> DOES NOT CONTAIN
> 
> NOT: rape  
> NOT: smut  
> NOT: fluff  
> NOT: pedophilia  
> NOT: incest

Fifteen years old, 

his third year of being friends with Gon. The first year of his relationship. And he thought, finally 15. Now grown, now more mature, he finally allowed himself to accept the fact he’d been through so much and he deserved to be loved. He had finally accepted that fact but it doesn’t mean he liked it. Just because he _accepted_ it doesn’t mean that it’d automatically take away the guilt of living, the guilt of being able to love, the anxiety about having someone love _him_. Just because he accepted that fact doesn’t mean he’d just stop feeling all the icky things. That isn’t how life works. 

He knew that. From a young age he’d known that the icky feelings are like weeds. You can mistake them as flowers at first, and water them, and take care of them, and show them proper treatment, but then they become monstrous. Tearing apart your garden, hurting the other plants, but your not motivated. You don’t have the motivation to pick them out, and they just sit there, festering and growing and eventually your garden is completely ruined except for the weeds. And now, at this point, the weeds had built up a resistance. And now you do have the motivation, but when you try and cut them away their roots are like a thick slab of concrete. By now, your motivated, but you also understand that it’s nearly impossible to shred away these weeds. And you can try, and try for as long as you want, but now you can’t tell if you’ll ever be able to snip away the weeds because now— they’re apart of your garden. 

There was no other way he _could_ describe it. Even in his own head that sounded totally _uncool_ but really, was he wrong? He could also compare it to a sickness, but sicknesses have a cure. Or at least most of them. But these icky feelings didn’t have a cure that _he_ could take. He also knew this. As apart of his training he was forced to build up a tolerance of poison to the part where it wouldn’t affect him. No medicine would fix it. 

In some way, he was kind of like he weeds _and_ the garden. 

But he knew all of this.

So there he sat, 15 years old with the love of his life in front of him and the icky feelings creepy up _behind_ him. Gon used to be like the light at the end of a dark tunnel, just barely out of reach. But now, now he was in reach and Gon was _his_.

Gon looked over, smiling brilliantly. 

And Killua’s chest fluttered. 

And suddenly, Gon squinted his eyes, bringing a hand up and smacking Killua right out. A clean hit.

* * *

He was in a large, open, field, surrounded by grass and colossal, towering, plants. Despite the vast landscape, he still felt like a caged house pet, trapped in place by invisible metal bars.

His guts were spelling out into his hands. He would know what real guts looked like, but these didn’t match. They looked almost cartoonish, like something they’d show on TV. They felt slimy, like he was gripping oobleck, and the smell was just awful. Blood and intestines slipped through his fingers and dripped to the floor like syrup. He tried to scream, for help, for someone, for anything but they couldnt. His attempts sounded like an animal being strangled. Blood rushed from his ears and his eyes, staining his clothes a sticky red. He tried to run. He tried to escape. It was useless, his foot was broken and he ran with a limp, only managing to get a couple feet before falling back to the cold, hard, ground nearly lifeless. He wondered if this was how his victims felt, as they worthlessly begged for their life and he spared no remorse for them. Was this his karma? Was this even real? And his eyes were suddenly falling out and rolling onto the ground, staring up at him lifelessly. Staring at him with the same exact dead-look of his brother. His brother. Another choked scream spilt from his lips like sirens, a warning.

He tried escaping again, and suddenly Illumi was behind him, slender hand gripping the base of his neck harshly. Then in the next instant scissors were hacking at his tongue, slicing and carving into the muscle. He gagged, spit and blood frothing from the sides of his mouth and trickling onto his hands and arms in the same fashion as a waterfall. Illumi was relentless. The older assassin held a mirror in front of his face, showing off his grotesque complexion. Like an endless void, dark sockets stared back at him, old blood caking the edges and outside. His face was entirely slashed to shit, covered in horrific cuts, spit, and blood. He gagged again. Instead of Illumi behind him, a shadowy figure took his place. 

And suddenly he was sitting at a dinner table. Illumi, Silva, Kikyo, and Milluki were also there, all turned towards him with award-winning smiles. Their plates were piled with bloody bits of flesh and kale, and...alluka’s head was directly in the middle of the table, balancing on a silver platter. Killua wailed, and in a slow-synchronized manner the zoldycks took a gracious bite of the rotting chunk of skin. He felt sick, as vile rushed up his throat, sour and acidic. He couldnt get up from his chair, he wasnt bound down or anything, he couldn’t physically stand. They snapped his legs in half, like the candy bars Milluki stashes. He couldnt move a muscle. And now Kikyo was right to the side of him, holding onto his shoulder and cooing like she would to a newborn, a fork in her opposite hand as she tried to shovel the human-tissue down his marred throat. He leaned away, and tried to fall sideways out of the chair.

A new room. Dark, with little to no light, and the walls were a flaking tuatara color. Multiple shadowy figures surrounded him, cornering him by a wall. He remembered this. He tried to fend them off with his hands, but when he looked down they had been reduced to shriveled stubs. The figured got closer, encasing him tightly by the wall, he had no chance of escape. And they reached out, grabbing his arms and hoisting him up. And the most satanic, raw, hate-filled screaming erupted from the figured, blood flying up from their throats, and he looked down at his arms then back up, and Gon was there, screaming like a banshee with blood streaking down his face, eyes stabbed through the middle. This wasnt what happened. In some morbid way he was grateful, but Gon, oh Gon. Killua felt like he was going to pass out. He looked back down, and all his scars were now pooling with blood, and the liquid burned his skin like lava. The flesh erupted with ugly red boils and Gon’s screeching finally came to a stop. 

He was alone now, save for Kalluto who was slowly approaching him. He tried to beg, but no words came out. When was it going to end? When was it going to stop? Kalluto was now in front of him, and yanked Killua down to their height, gripping his jaw firmly. As if his mouth wasnt mangled enough, the child started yanking out teeth one by one. Each one was painfully slow, and with each one another sin was whispered out from the depths of the room. The figures were back, hiding themselves among the so-silent-that-it-was-loud umbra of the room. They whispered into the darkness, confessing his wrongs. He didnt believe in a god, but he was praying. Another tooth, another, another, another, it never ended. 

Until it did. 

Instead of Kalluto the chimera ant, Neferpitou, stood proud and strong across from him. The silence was suffocating. No sound besides his futile babbling and pleading managed its way through the room. They were truly alone. 

Pitou latched onto his arms, dragging their claws down until they reached the stub, then ripped it off clean with a disgustingly saint-like smile. She reached for his neck, grabbing firmly and cracking off clean. 

And Killua shot up from his bed, ignoring the protests from people he didnt care to register, and threw up over the side of his balcony.

**Author's Note:**

> this was not proofread. i couldnt bring myself to do it. i a, severely triggered by my own writing im so sorry 😀😀


End file.
